


Days in the Temples

by A_F_S_M_A_S



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang Week 2021, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29688579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_F_S_M_A_S/pseuds/A_F_S_M_A_S
Summary: Before the war, the Air Temples were so full of life.Aang Week, Day 5Prompt: Air Temples
Kudos: 11





	Days in the Temples

“There it is, boys!” he called out, sending a wave of excitement through the saddle full of kids. The clouds parted as Tallu, Monk Gyatso’s flying bison, flew up, bringing the Southern Air Temple into view. The young boys he had ferried from the east were equally nervous and ecstatic at the sight of their new home.

The separation of the boys from the nuns and the girls their age was rarely an easy one, as was the division between the boys who would go to the Northern Air Temple and the ones who would go to the Southern. It was important that all of the children of the Air Nomads would have a connection to their brothers and sisters at the other temples, hence why they divided the boys this way, and why girls of the Eastern and Western Temples would be fostered for periods of time at the opposing temple where they had been born. But children so young cannot grasp such wisdom, and can only weep at the idea of leaving the only home they had ever known and saying goodbye to most of their friends. This year was no exception, though there had been one key difference.

This year, they had Aang.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said as he pulled a pair of friends who had been sniffling and clinging to the skirts of the nuns back at the Eastern Air Temple. “We’ll see everybody again soon. And we’ll have all kinds of things to tell them about our new home.”

Iio and Gyatso had exchanged a knowing look. Aang was only four, but his guardians could see the beginnings of the leader he would one day become.

Tallu landed on the platform where Monk Pasang and the other elders were waiting to greet the new generation. A group of younger monks stood behind them, who would help the boys with their luggage and show them to their new rooms. The kids had packed only their clothes and their favorite toys. Gyatso thought of the day when he would have to tell Aang the significance of the four among thousands that he had chosen.

But destiny would have to wait.

“Lemurs!” shouted Aang as soon as he spotted them in the nearby grove. In an instant, the boys had forgotten their melancholy and anxiety over moving and were sliding off of Tallu’s tail, following Aang to chase and befriend the flying lemurs of the Southern Air Temple.

* * *

Gyatso waited for a few years so that Aang could learn, train, and get used to his new home before taking him on an extended voyage. The day came sooner than expected, as Aang progressed faster through his lessons than any other student Gyatso had seen, and had a wanderlust beyond his years.

“Why is the temple built into a cliff?” asked Aang, peering over the edge of Tallu’s saddle to get a better view of the Western Air Temple.

Monk Gyatso answered, “These islands lack mountains suitable for a traditional temple, so the nomads who came here so long ago first tried to build on the ground. But the spirits of the forest were of a sensitive nature, and the temple’s construction would have thrown them in chaos. Instead, the first airbenders of the west befriended the spirits, and together they made the temple out of the cliffside.”

The naturally strong breeze that whistled through the chasm enhanced the airbending of the temple’s occupants. Aang could feel it as soon as Tallu began his descent towards the temple. 

A trio of nuns were there to greet them. At their head was Mother Tsudune, a tall woman with features that showed her Fire Nation ancestry. “Welcome, brother. The western wind brings you good tidings,” she greeted in the traditional manner of the Air Nomads.

Gyatso gave the customary reply. “Greetings, sister. May the southern wind bring you great fortune.”

At Gyatso’s side, Aang stared up at the Mother Superior. He didn’t notice it at first, but Sister Tsudune was taller than tall. She was a giant. She even stood head and shoulders over Monk Gyatso, who always had seemed bigger than life to Aang. He was so caught up in the sight of her that he forgot to even say hello. Gyatso gently corrected that. “Aang, this is Sister Tsudune, Mother Superior of the Western Air Temple.”

Remembering his manners, Aang bowed to her. “Hello!”

She gave him a smile as an aunt might give a nephew. “Is this your first time in our temple, young man?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“In that case, you must see our pai sho board.”

“Pai sho?”

“Indeed. Our stone table is the oldest pai sho board in the world. It was on it that the game was first played millenia ago.”

As the nuns showed them through the temple, Aang had become so caught up in the new sights and sounds that he paid little attention to the hushed conversation Gyatso and Tsudune were having.

“They’ve stopped all contact with the temple?”

“Yes. I can’t explain it, but our messages to the Fire Nation are going unanswered. Our hawks leave with scrolls, but they’ve been returning to the temple empty-handed for over a month now.”

“Don’t you have friends in the royal court?”

“I do, and the last time I saw one of them they were trying to hide how nervous they felt. I don’t even think they know why they should be nervous around us, but the sentiment is there. I’m just hoping that I won’t have to make an appeal to the fire lord himself.”

“Rumors say he’s been an elusive figure ever since the death of Avatar Roku. Staying in Caldera City, meeting with fewer and fewer emissaries from the other nations, ramping up the Fire Nation’s industry to an unprecedented scale.”

“The rumors are true in this case. But I’m certain that our fortunes will turn around soon enough.”

Aang turned his attention back to his elders just as they arrived at the stone board. It was larger than the wooden tables back home, with an edge smooth to the touch and intricately designed with symbols of animals and historical figures.

“Aang,” said Gyatso, cracking his knuckles in a dramatic fashion, “watch closely. You’re going to see the master in action.”

“Young monk, watch closely,” Tsudune retorted, taking her seat with a flourish of airbending. “You’re going to see why humility is a virtue of our people.”

Aang giggled as the match began. While the part of him that bristled at having never beaten his mentor in a game hoped for Sister Tsudune’s victory, his loyalty won out. “Go Gyatso!”

Pionge, a young student of Tsudune standing to Aang’s right, made a ‘hmph!’ sound. “Mother Tsudune has never been beaten at pai sho, and I doubt today will be any different.”

Aang was quick to counter in the defense of his mentor. “Yeah? Well Monk Gyatso is the best pai sho player of the Southern Air Temple!”

“Mother Tsudune could beat anyone in the world with her eyes closed!” Pionge shot back, locked in a vicious staring match with Aang.

“The boy reminds me of you at that age, Gyatso,” Tsudune said under her breath, unable to resist smiling at the kids’ argument.

Gyatso nodded. “And Pionge has the same wildfire in her that you had as a girl.”

“Let’s just hope those two don’t develop a friendship as destructive as our own.”

“Indeed. I don’t think the world can handle that again.”

Aang and Pionge worked out their newfound rivalry through games, as Air Nomad children always did. The two, alongside the rest of the girls of the temple, played hide and seek, papaya toss, and hurricane tag for hours, going so long that the sun was starting to set by the time there wasn’t a single child left standing or not out of breath.

“I think it’s time a young monk got to bed,” announced Gyatso as he picked Aang up off the ground.

“No,” Aang weakly protested as he was carried away.

“Yes, Aang. You’ll see your new friends again in the morning.”

* * *

At the Western Air Temple, the nuns prided themselves on their pai sho, going so far as to claim that they invented the ancient game.

At the Southern Air Temple, the monks would say that their culinary skills were without equal, and that tasting one of their fruit pies would give the eater wisdom found nowhere else on Earth.

At the Eastern Air Temple, the nuns liked to say that their bison husbandry kept them too busy and spiritually pure to stoop to the petty rivalries found in the other temples. It went unsaid that an Eastern nun would not tolerate any disrespect in regards to their physical artistry, from the woodcraft of their gliders to the stonework of their sculptures.

At the Northern Air Temple, the monks bragged, in that uniquely humble way that only monks can, that they were the first to ride upon the original airbenders. That was why it was their temple that hosted the annual sky bison polo championship.

The first round of the championship consisted of six matches where each individual temple team would play three games, facing each of the other temples once. A win got their team two points in the tournament, whereas a tie would only get them one point. At the end of the first round, the points were added up to decide who would face who in the second round. The team in first place would face the team in fourth while the team in second played the third place team. The winner of those two games would then compete for first prize in the finals. Nine was considered a lucky number in Air Nomad culture, so the tournament always had nine games.

Unofficially, in incidents where the rules were broken but the rulebreakers went unpunished, the teams who had lost the semi-finals would play a game to decide who came in third and who in fourth. Anyone who ever said that airbenders didn’t have it in them to be competitive had never seen a sky bison polo match.

“The Northern monks have added a new player to their team this year,” Monk Tashi informed them in the pen where the monks and bison of the South gathered to prepare for their first game.

“How’s he look?” asked Monk Pasang, head monk of their temple and captain of the polo team.

“He’s huge! I’ve never seen an airbender with muscles like his! And I hate to say this of any sky bison, but his is the meanest-looking bruiser I have ever seen.”

“Seventeen and a full master,” said Monk Palden. “He’s the youngest in the Northern Air Temple’s history.”

“Becoming a master at seventeen is impressive,” said Gyato. “At the rate Aang is going, he’ll make it before he turns thirteen.”

Aang, hanging from Tallu’s horns, giggled, but none of the other monks shared his enthusiasm.

“A teacher shouldn’t inflate his student’s ego,” Tashi chided.

“Aang learns humility every time I play a board game with him.”

“Enough, brothers. Let us focus on the game ahead,” stated Pasang. “Aang, go join the others.”

“Yes, Master Pasang.”

“And make sure you get the other boys to cheer louder than the other temples!” reminded Gyatso.

“Go South Wind! Go South Wind!” Aang practiced as he flew down the hall and back to his seat where the rest of the southerners were waiting, along with everyone else, for the first game to start.

* * *

The Eastern Air Temple was divided between three mountains, connected to one another by bridges. Legends differed on how the temple came to be as it was. Some said that the flying bison led the first of the Eastern Air Nomads to this land and befriended a clan of badger moles to help them construct the temples. Others said that the original temples were made by spirits on the backs of three lion turtles who wandered inland and rested atop the mountains and, upon dying, their bodies fused with the mountain and left their shell temples behind.

Regardless of its origin, Aang was glad to revisit his birthplace after so long, to play games with the girls as they did when they were little, and to show the nuns who first raised him what he had learned of airbending.

Surprisingly, three of the boys his age who had been sent to the Northern Air Temple were there with their guardians as well. On the morning after they arrived, Mother Iio asked the boys to follow her, but the older monks remained seated.

“Monk Gyatso?” Aang asked. “Aren’t you coming?”

Gyatso replied with a wink and a smile. “Not for this part, Aang. This is just for you boys.”

Aang’s confusion was compounded when one of the nuns handed Iio a basket full of apples. It wasn’t until they were crossing the bridge to the easternmost temple that Aang worked up the courage to ask, “Mother Iio, what’s going on?”

The head nun replied, “The time has come for you all to bond with your sky bison.”

Aang, just like the rest of the boys, was so excited he couldn’t speak, but he did start shaking from head to toe. The energy created by his vibrating fists could fuel three of the giant ironclad ships that Kuzon had shown him on his last visit to the Fire Nation.

A few of the other nuns waited on the sides of the courtyard as Iio guided the boys into position. “Choose well,” she reminded them, making sure each boy had an apple to give. “A sky bison is a companion for life.”

The mother bison landed in front of them with five calves in tow. Mother Iio tossed an apple to her as the boys approached the calves. For Aang, though all of the bison were amazing, there was only one who caught his eye.

He walked up to the calf, not too fast, not too slow, just as Iio had taught him. Aang held out the apple to let him sniff it, to let him know that he was friendly. The apple was accepted, as was Aang’s gentle hand that petted the fur on his forehead.

As much as the nuns stressed the importance of the choice for the children, the sky bison, even the young ones, understood the importance of their own choice in this matter. Humans did not live as long as bison did. To accept an Air Nomad was to gain a friendship like no other, but it came with the knowledge that it would eventually lead to heartbreak. Once their companion would pass, no one would ever take their place. Some bison feared this pain so much that they never bonded with any individual rider, a few even shunning humans altogether.

The calf understood that Aang had chosen him, and made his own choice quickly known. He playfully knocked Aang to the ground and nuzzled his face into chest, licking his face.

“I guess this means we’ll always be together!” said Aang as he laughed with joy.

The calf responded by licking him again, making Aang giggle once more.

* * *

“Appa?”

The young bison hesitated to take another step towards Aang, Gyatso, and Tallu and away from the temple.

“What’s wrong buddy?”

“I’ve seen this before,” Gyatso explained, placing a comforting hand on Appa’s head. “Appa has lived his entire life here. It can be very hard for a person or for a flying bison to leave home for the first time.”

With memories of his own departure from this place in mind, Aang hugged Appa. “I know what it’s like, Appa. It’s scary, and it’s sad to say goodbye to your friends. But you’ll see them again. And you’ll be able to tell them all kinds of stories about your new home!”

Appa, with a little reluctance still obvious, seemed emboldened enough to step up to Tallu, readying himself to take flight. He wasn’t quite big enough for Aang to ride yet, so he flew all the way to the Southern Air Temple at Tallu’s side, hovering near Aang, who spoke at length of the wonders of his new home. “You’re gonna love the Southern Air Temple, buddy!” 

* * *

The Southern Air Temple had been quiet for too long.

Today, that was going to change.

Aang, Appa, and Momo, the last of the old children of the temple, had wandered throughout their home with only each other for company for an hour. The trio had come weeks before with Katara and Sokka to give Gyatso’s bones to the funeral pyre. That day was one of the hardest of his life. He had stumbled a few times in his recitation of the traditional prayers for the dead, and had to stop more than once to collect himself. Without Katara to lean on, without Sokka to help him gather the wood, he might not have had the strength to see it through.

Still, Aang clung onto optimism. For all the scars he could see and the painful memories they brought to mind, there was a chance for life in the old temple. Finding Momo long ago had been proof enough of that.

The ones who had accompanied them today were further proof of that.

“Master Aang,” Yee-Li said, breaking him out of the contemplation he was stuck in. “Everyone is gathered and ready.”

Aang turned and nodded. “Thank you, Yee-Li. I’ll be right there.”

It had taken hours to ferry them all on Appa. They weren’t an army by any means, but there was enough of them that getting them through the Patola Mountains to the temple was a hassle. The Air Acolytes, as he had named them, were waiting for him in the main courtyard. They had come from all over, wearing the garbs of the Water Tribe, Earth Kingdom, and Fire Nation. Only a handful sported robes similar to his own. The youngest among them was as young as Aang looked, and the oldest among them was as old as Aang actually was. They were builders, farmers, teachers, healers, artists, workers, and former soldiers. A few of them were even benders of other elements.

What a colorful band had gathered to join his nation.

The words Guru Pathik had told him during their reunion echoed in his mind. “The Air Nomads will live on. Not as you and I once knew them. Not better, not worse. They are the new, born from the ashes of the old. All that you can do, the best that you can do, is guide them as best you can.”

As he looked at them, seeing their starry-eyed expressions, all waiting to hear what he had to say next, Aang realized there was only one more thing he had to tell them. He brought his hands together in the traditional manner of the Air Nomads and bowed to his followers, taking their collective breath away.

“My fellow monks, I thank you for joining me on this journey. The road ahead is long and uncertain. The war is over, but this new era of love and peace will only happen if we undertake the work to heal the damage that has been done. You have proven that people from all walks of life, from every nation, can come together in harmony to reforge what has been broken and give it new life. A wise guru once told me that the greatest illusion of all is that of separation. People may live as if divided, believing that they are too different from each other, but there is more that unites us than we think. We are all connected, to this world and to each other. Today, we’re going to prove how right that wisdom is. Today, we will start to mend the balance of this world. Today, we will start repairing this temple...”

Aang raised his head to look at them and smiled. “Today, we start rebuilding a nation.”

**Author's Note:**

> You know what sucks about creating historical Air Nomad OCs?  
> Falling in love with the details you create to flesh out them and their lives, and then remembering that they get murdered.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Sincerely,  
> A.F.S.M.A.S.


End file.
